


Let 'Em Talk

by elenawrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8471590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenawrites/pseuds/elenawrites
Summary: Harry and Draco move in together. A birthday oneshot for Suha (btamin)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [btamin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/btamin/gifts).



> title from the lorde song 'a world alone'. originally posted on tumblr for suha's birthday<3

Draco did not understand how the new answering machine functioned. 

_“Four new messages…”_

Harry was normally the one who handled most of the muggle technology, but he wasn’t awake yet, and Draco had grown too hungry to laze around in bed with him, as nice as that sounded. Harry had been complaining of sore muscles earlier, moaning about how much rubbish Draco had made him carry into the flat. He’d fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pillow, and Draco had been content to wrap his arms around the exhausted man and get some rest himself.  

“We have a kettle. We don’t need another one,” Harry had said before, struggling to balance two cardboard boxes in his arms.

“Your kettle is going to fall apart from overuse,” Draco replied. He slung a bag full of clothes over his shoulder and started upstairs, kissing Harry’s cheek as he went. 

“Well, that’s your fault. You’re always the one over here making tea.” Harry nearly dropped the boxes. “And if I collapse from exhaustion carrying all of your posh things…” He shot a mock scowl at Draco. 

Draco pushed open their door with his free hand. “You’re strong. I know you can handle it.”

“That’s the only reason you’re with me, isn’t it?”

Draco smiled. “Naturally.”

That had been yesterday. They had finished moving all of Draco’s things into Harry’s flat by dinner, which hadn’t been a particularly difficult task considering Draco practically lived there already. They had just made it official now, with a new kettle and the whole of Draco’s wardrobe crammed next to Harry’s in the closet.

Now, as Draco stood in their kitchen, wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of Harry’s sweatpants (slightly short on Draco, but they were warm), the new answering machine blinked and repeated its words.

_“Four new messages…”_

Draco sighed and turned the thing over. He looked for a button to shut it up; Harry always pressed some button or another to make things work.

Nothing. He tried one of the flashing lights on the top. 

_“Five new messages…”_

“Damn it,” Draco mumbled. He didn’t want it to talk _more,_ he wanted it to be quiet so he could enjoy his morning in peace. 

Draco looked over at the clock. It was already ten thirty; Harry should’ve been awake by now. Draco set the annoying contraption down and slipped into the bedroom. 

Harry was still curled up in bed, sheets strewn around him. Draco stood by the door for a moment, admiring the way the sunlight hit the sleeping man before hopping onto the bed and half-tackling him. 

“What,” Harry mumbled, reaching for his glasses, “on _earth_ are you doing?”

Draco kissed him. “Saying good morning. And coming to see if you knew how to work the bloody machine in the kitchen. It speaks, did you know?”

“Our first morning living together,” Harry yawned, “and you want to mess around with the answering machine.”

“I’d be perfectly happy to participate in _other_ activities, Potter, if that voice wasn’t telling me how many messages I had every two minutes.”

Harry smiled up at Draco and ran a hand through his hair. _“Other_ sounds good. Get the damn machine and I’ll turn it off.”

Draco sped back to the kitchen, yanking the plug from the wall and heading back to the bedroom with the answering machine in hand. He dropped it on the bed, crawling in next to Harry.

_“Five new messages…”_ the machine said on cue, Harry sighed.

“I supposed we’ve got to listen to them. Funny how I just bought this two days ago and we’ve already missed all the calls.” He shrugged and pressed a button, and the first message began to play.

_“Draco, darling!”_

Harry clapped his hands over his ears.  _“Christ,_ that’s loud. Is that Pansy? What business does she have screaming into the phone like that?”

Draco shushed him and fiddled with the dials on the machine. Once Pansy’s voice was at an appropriate volume, they started the message again.

_“Draco, darling! I read the strangest thing in the Prophet this morning, just when were you going to tell me you and Potter were an item? Oh, I knew you’d shagged that one time, but Merlin, you’ve moved in together? When was I, your very best friend, going to hear? Hmm, Draco? And Potter, I suppose, if you’re living together now- when were you going to tell me, Potter? I’m your friend too!”_ There was a noise in the background, and then Pansy was back. _“I expect the full answer by tonight, Draco, or I’ll come over there myself!”_

The machine clicked, and the message ended.

They were silent for a moment, and then Harry spoke. “The Prophet. Oh my god.”

Draco stared at the machine. “We… we didn’t tell anyone, did we?”

Harry shook his head. “Not a single person. It was our thing, not theirs. You think that’s what the other four are?”

There was only one way to find out. Draco pressed play.

_“Harry- oh, and Draco! Hello! It’s Hermione, and ooh, you two might want to look at the paper, there’s a story- Rita Skeeter, no less- and there are pictures too, I really don’t know how they printed it so fast, it was only yesterday- yes, alright, Ron! Harry, Ronald would like you to know that he’s thoroughly distraught- he’s laughing quite hard, actually, I’m not sure how he sees any of this as funny- that you didn’t inform us of your plans to move in with Draco, but really, when have you ever had a concrete plan- yes, Ron! Got to go, Harry, we’ll be by for dinner!”  
_

Harry’s mouth was half open. “Dinner,” he murmured. “They’re coming for dinner.” 

There was a tapping noise at the window, and both of their gazes came to rest on a large, brown owl, who was carrying a newspaper and looking annoyed. Harry sighed and rolled out of bed to open the window, taking the paper and closing the window again as the owl hooted. Climbing in back with Draco, Harry unfurled the paper and read the headline.

_POTTER AND MALFOY: DOMESTIC BLISS AT LAST!_

Draco swallowed.  _Oh my god._

There was a picture of himself and Harry carrying boxes, smiling and talking amiably, completely unaware of the photographer lurking somewhere outside the frame. Draco watched as picture-Harry laughed at something picture-Draco said, and for a moment he was overwhelmed by the grin on picture-Draco’s face. He looked so incredibly at ease and _happy,_ and as he stared at the photo beginning its loop again, he sent a silent thanks to the photographer for at least capturing something he’d want to remember, even if it was invasive.

Harry let out a small sigh beside him. Draco turned to see his face, and then, to his surprise, Harry smiled.

“Did you know,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist and letting the paper fall on the bed, “that this is the first article I’ve been in that I don’t immediately want to toss in the fire?”

“You- what?”

Harry smiled again. “I-” he kissed the tip of Draco’s nose, “Hate-” he kissed Draco’s cheek, “Being-” he kissed behind Draco’s ear, “In-” he kissed Draco’s neck, “Papers.”

Harry, still smiling, pulled back to look at Draco for a second before shifting closer and turning his attention back to Draco’s throat.

“You- you seem pretty h-happy,” Draco said, shutting his eyes, “about it right now. Harry-  _Harry.”_ Draco rested his arms on Harry’s shoulders, moving him slightly. “If you keep that up, I won’t be able to focus. You’re not very upset this time, are you?”

“Hm?” Harry looked up at Draco. “Oh, yeah, well.” He grinned, reaching up to drag a hand through Draco’s hair. “This is the first time I don’t hate it because this is the first time they’ve got anything remotely right.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

Harry just kept smiling, looking as if he were about to burst with joy. “When I was in school, everything they said was wrong. When I came out, not as _gay,_ but as bisexual, they said it wrong. When we started dating, they were wrong, so incredibly wrong, with all of the stuff from the war, and your trial, and all of that, but this,” he picked up the paper, displaying ‘ _POTTER AND MALFOY: DOMESTIC BLISS AT LAST!’_ again. “They got it right.”

Draco didn’t say anything. He was too busy skimming the article- not a single _death eater,_ or _Voldemort,_ or even _chosen one._ Just a photograph and a few paragraphs of mindless babbling about their progressing relationship.

“I’m sure I’ll be more annoyed about the fact that they got pictures and things without our knowledge later,” Harry said, “But for right now…”

Draco was smiling too, mirroring Harry, because this _was_ something to smile about. No prejudice, no nasty comments, nothing but fluff and tabloid-like gossip that wouldn’t be given a second thought to in another week.

“Right now, I say we just let them talk. Say what they want, speculate, whatever, because it’s only you and me that really matter after everything,” Harry continued. He waved the paper. “In fact, I quite like the sound of domestic bliss.” 

Draco laughed quietly and pulled Harry in closer. “So what’ll we tell Pansy? And Hermione, and Weasley? Everything you just said?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, licking his lips, “Except, maybe we’ll leave out what I’m about to do.”

Draco leaned in. “That sounds… good.”

_“Three new messages…”_

Draco groaned. “Damn it, Potter. Your muggle things are always ruining the mood. What happened to shutting that thing up?”

Harry twisted around to turn the machine off, and then faced Draco again. “Sorry. Think I can make it up to you, though.”

Draco smirked and fingered the hem of Harry’s shirt. “I’d like to see you try.”

They didn’t leave the bedroom until noon.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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